I started to read
the death notices every week.
I’ve got to the age
that the names are familiar to me.
When winter arrives
my bones now start to creak.
I guess I should be thankful
that the reaper has let me be.
Some of the faces
from my youth have been taken,
leaving families
behind, alone and devastated.
It makes me appreciate
the morning when I awaken
and makes me think twice
about feeling frustrated.
The 50 year old poet 
May you live a long and healthy life. Bless you!
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And you.
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Love this!
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Thanks.
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Honey you still have 40 years another lifetime. Start moving. 🔥
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I totally understand. ❤️🦋🌀
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Such true words of age
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How does it make you feel?I started reading epitaphs since I was 17.I like to form epiphanies since.I think you are young,50 is young.all my motivators are 50.so glad you are blogging.I look forward to your poems!sending you love,just where you are at.
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Thank you very much.
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